


Best of Us

by tune4toons (ayunda)



Category: Ice Climber, Super Smash Brothers
Genre: F/M, Gift Fic, One Shot, Prompt Fic, Reincarnation, Romantic Friendship, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-24
Updated: 2013-07-24
Packaged: 2017-12-21 04:49:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/895983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ayunda/pseuds/tune4toons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, it takes a hundred lifetimes to get it right.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Best of Us

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MessengerOfDreams](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=MessengerOfDreams).



I thought I saw you die today.

Fifteen feet above me, you strike your axe into the ice coating the mountain side, but I can barely see you through the blur of blizzard where ice chunks chuck their bodies at me in the millions. You turn to face me, but I can't hear your shouts within the wind's cries. All I can do is wait at the bottom of the pitch and watch you stick your pick into the jagged ice. Your figure shrinks into a dot with the increasing distance, so you better not slip—don't you dare go and slip.

Your hand reaches up for the ledge above your head, but the fog makes it hard to distinguish loose snow from stable ice from heavy snowflakes the mountain continues to lob at our faces. First touch and fingers grasp around it before you push your weight down.

But it collapses within your palm and the first clear thing I hear is your screams, your shouts as the rope wrapped around my waist loosens. Amidst the fog is your falling figure soaring past me down below, and my breath only hitches in my throat as I force myself to look at you. The rope soon rips me off the mountain side and I see your wide-eyed face and opened mouth screaming apologies deafened by the blizzard's roar, by my cries as I try to reach for you as I watch your body race closer to the cliff edge waiting below before we brace for the—

Thump. The top of my head starts throbbing, vision soon clearing, when I realise my head had hit the snow roof above me. My chest continues heaving up and down as I force frozen air into my lungs, but it takes me a more few seconds to remember half of my body's wrapped in a sleeping bag, and that I'm sitting with my back straight up inside a quinzee.

Glance to my left, and there lay your resting form leaning against me within the comforts of a sleeping bag. Can't help but smile really, so I lean down and kiss your cheek. You feel warm, you know.

It takes a lot for me not to grab you into a sudden hug when your eyes flutter open.

This isn't the first time this happened to me.

* * *

I've had many dreams of us being different people before. Once, you were a young woman who stood in front of the gates leading to a massive stadium, but your feet planted themselves to the ground like invisible hands ripped through the dirt to grab your ankles.

I was only a travelling merchant passing by, yet I couldn't help but stop and approach you. You looked as dazzling as always, soft brown hair coupled with that cute round face, though you were in a pink summer dress that day. I smiled, pulling small trinkets out of my pack as I offered them to you. You only shook your head and refused my offers—until you spotted a wooden handle sticking out of my bag.

So I pulled it out, watching your expression change from a polite smile to a gasp when you saw a mallet head appear at the end of the stick. Couldn't help but chuckle at the way you looked like nothing more than a little girl with a sea full of curiosity.

"I'll even give you a discount," I mused to you, something I wouldn't mind doing for a pretty young lady such as yourself. When you giggled and handed me the payment, my smile only grew wider as I gave you the mallet. A beautiful laugh for a beautiful girl. Didn't know why you wanted it, but it didn't matter to me. Your hands were soft though. Warm too.

Soon from the arena's entrance, I spotted a man holding up a trophy walking towards us, and you rushed over to him as you held out the hammer you got from me. Glancing back at me, he raised a brow. A second later, that stare became a glare.

I took that as my cue to leave.

* * *

Today, we are ready to set out into the mountains today, but the dream I had still stuck around—it was the same mountain we're supposed to be climbing today. 5,633 metres tall, and here we are at the base.

"Whose idea was it to climb this again?"

"It was yours, remember?" you call out to me as you finish packing your sleeping bag. So I approach you, feet crunching in the snow as it reminds me I'm steps closer to touching the mountain side, but when you grab my shoulder and turn towards me, you smile, reminding me why we're here.

To be honest, I just wanted to spend more time with you. Remember when you teased me about not knowing how to climb before? It was also the day you started giving me crash courses on climbing too. You taught me everything your dad showed you, and we would practice along short cliff faces. I still have the scars and bruises from those times.

It'd been raining when you pushed me into another day of rock climbing once. With rope in hand, you belayed me the whole way up—but I could never forget the way my heart pounded, the way my fingers could barely grip the slippery rocks and moss, the way my hand slipped off and I find myself dangling on the rope. I scrambled to grab onto rock, but my fingers kept slipping, sliding across its surface and I plummeted a few feet down.

Then I felt a tug around my waist, and it took me a few seconds to remember you had me on belay. A glance down and I spotted you pulling down on the rope, holding it with all your weight, so I let out a sigh. You had me. You always did.

Relaxing my mind, I plopped back onto the rock and grabbed hold of some crevices, quickly climbing forward from ledge to ledge. Sure enough when I finally pulled myself up to the top, I grinned when I heard you cheer from the bottom of the cliff, and I called out to you yelling how easy that was.

I lied. Of course it wasn't easy.

But a guy's gotta keep some pride somewhere.

* * *

One odd dream ago, I was nothing more than a leaf planted to the ground. The sun shone and fed me plenty of food, the occasional rain quenched my thirst, and I considered life to be good. Blessed to be born in an area where no creatures could crush me into the dirt or dine on me.

Then I saw you. There you were drifting in the wind, a small little dandelion seed passing by. Suited you, I think, the way something as light as a breeze could carry you off across long distances and travel on a journey as far as fate would take you.

You were young and I was old, and not even I have gotten an opportunity to do that yet.

Sometimes, I wished I was more like you.

* * *

We start our climb up, and my breath already hitches in my throat, but I shook it off to keep up with how fast you scaled the mountain. When did we switch roles, I wonder, because the first thought that comes to me is of the day we first met.

We were only eight years old. A crowd had gathered in front of the gates to my village as people rushed out of igloos to join the mass. The wind only kicked up snow into a cloak of fog against the cold. If I didn't know they had on parkas, they could've been confused for coloured snow cones for all I knew.

The closer I approached them, the louder their scattered words rang in my ears.

"Is it just the two of you?" "Where did you come from?" "The mountain pass? But that's dangerous territory!"

Curious, I pushed and shoved my way through a crowd of legs when I soon stumbled out into the open in the centre of the circle. Glance forward, and brown hair blocked my view. Glance up, and I realised it wasn't mine.

My eyes met with a pair of dark ones, and there you were: a little girl not far from my age. You kept quiet as you huddled behind a tall man's leg, only for the same man to nudge you forward.

"Introduce yourself, sweetie."

Instead, I took that as my cue and grinned. "I'm Popo. What's your name?"

You glanced down to the side, clutching your father's leg tighter, but muttered, "Natalie."

"That's too long, so I'm gonna call you Nana."

Soon your head snapped forward as you stared wide-eyed. "But that's not my—"

But I cut you off by holding out my hand. "Hey Nana, wanna be friends?"

In retrospect, I probably should've been nicer to you, but I couldn't help but chuckle to myself when you hesitated as if you'd be stung if you touched me. Rather than shaking it however, you just held my hand between both of your gloved ones. You were a weird one; you still are.

In the present, you toss yourself over a wide ledge and hold out your hand to me—the other grabbing the rope. If I had more climbing experience, that would've been me there ready to support you up, to see you smile when you see me waiting for you.

It's alright though. I'm just glad you didn't leave me behind. I grab your hand and chuckle when you were forced to use both hands to pull me up.

But even back then, they felt warm around mine.

* * *

In another lifetime, I was a woman and you were a man, but it was the weirdest feeling to see myself sporting a dress while you had on some odd princely garb—as in a cape wrapped around a detailed red tunic and armour. Despite being a man, I could tell it was you. You still had your smile, your stubborn pout, your awkward strut as you tried to stretch your back to look a little taller than me—though I still had a centimetre above you.

The first thing you did was pat my head and said I'll make a great servant. It was my first time meeting you though, so I only stood there feeling your hand thump against my skull a few times, dreading to see what else you'd do to me.

But then a rushing sound of clinking armour floods the throne room with an approaching rumble of foot soldiers gathering near the entrance. You soon brushed past me to greet them. Then with a quick glance back at me, you smirk with a confidence one would expect from a prince.

"Be sure to prepare my room when I return, maid."

Then you march through the crowd of silver armour, and everyone lined up behind you, matching your strides and poise, all while holding their spears up beside them.

That was the first and last time I saw you.

* * *

I know I shouldn't be pessimistic, but I heard fifteen to twenty people have died on this mountain each year.

I probably should've thought of that before I asked you to come on this adventure with me, but you used to tell me about all these stories of when you went climbing with your friends, so of course I wanted to do it with you too.

Now here we are and I can feel my stomach drop in front of me.

But we make our ascent anyway, you as lead climber while I follow close behind. It's amazing how much distance we make in less than a few hours, but each time we stop for a break on a ledge, you keep telling me how great I'm doing, how great I am, that I might even be doing better than you.

But I hope you never tell me I'm the better climber because I never would have done it without you.

Soon we're standing on that cliff side below the one I saw in my dream, an uneven tower of jagged rock and ice. I still remember it, how real it felt, how gravity overtook us before we could reach the ends of our journey.

Hundreds of deaths led to this day. I doubt we'd want to add a hundred more.

So forgive me when I ask to let me be the lead for the rest of the climb.

You raise a brow, but I ask again. "Please." I take your hand in mine and grasp it tight. "Trust me."

It takes you a few minutes to think it over; I can see from the way your eyes drift about, the way your hands fumble with the carabiner and the harnesses on your belt until you sigh. Until you stare me in the eye as my returning gaze becomes my plea.

Then you drop your pack and say you need to switch it with mine. Takes me a few seconds to process what you are doing when you show me where you keep the ice screws and anchors. I can't help but smile the moment you explain what to do when I reach the top, yet the way your hands tremble tell me more about your thoughts than you'd admit yourself.

So I take them into my own, watching you glance up at me. Then I lean in to feel your lips on mine, and when I pull back, you sigh. And that sigh turns into a faint smile coupled with your answer in the form of a nod.

Then we climb on.

* * *

One night, you ran away from me. You were my best friend despite me being on the edge of insanity. That time, my body burned like something was trying to get out, trying to rip apart my skin to break free—heard people's cries of "Demon, demon!" And the first thing I saw when the pain stopped was you.

You stumbled back, fingers wrapped around a gun—and my mind screamed, "Hunter! Hunter!" _Don'tkillmedon'tkillme_ —but you were shaking, sweating and wide-eyed when I noticed it was you. But you were pale and trembling before you scrambled into a run to get away from me. Hand stretched out to reach you, but in seconds you were too far away. One push off the ground, and the world turned from dusk into night into nothing but a dark blur as my speed only doubles because I wanted to see you and explain everything. _Don'trundon'trunfrommepleaseIbegofyou_.

Soon scattered bullets from all directions ripped through me, and all I heard were garbled shouts from strange men hidden in shadows where I couldn't see, couldn't tell where they were because my sights focused only on the figure in front of me since I was scared that the only thing in my mind was the fear of you abandoning me. Soon you leapt off the edge of the main road and into the desert—but I didn't care when I realised you were leading me away from the town. My eyes widened when you twisted around and whipped out your gun—

BANG! A bullet burst through my chest as I crashed into the dirt. I tried to lift my arm— BANG! And it fell limp beside me.

Vision started blurring with tears, but I didn't know why. _Ididn'tmeantoIdidn'tmeanto_. Head tilted up to watch your approaching figure above look down on me. Something wet hit my cheek, and I realised it was from you, not me. You stared wide-eyed and I watched your thoughts race through your mind, but you didn't pity me—why would you? You knew by meeting someone as dangerous as me that you'd have to carry your duty out eventually. I couldn't tell if you were staring at my eyes or at the scales on my face when you muttered:

"I'm sorry."

I'm sorry too.

You held your gun down. Pulled the trigger.

BANG!

* * *

Blink, and I gasp when I see the top of the cliff and I call out to you down below. My heart starts racing again as I drag myself up, set the belay anchor, and help belay you forward until you reach me. The moment I pull you to the top and onto your feet, realisation drops a ton down on me. Here we are at the height of the mountain, and we're the ones who made it. The first thing you say is, "We did it! See? I told you that you could do it!" Breathing it in, the cold air stings my throat, but I didn't care, instead grabbing you into a big bear hug before spinning with you along the snow.

Do you think we'll be able to do this again someday? In the distant future? Or even in a another life?

Forgive me for being a dreamer, but would you believe me if I said you showed me to think that way? When you were born into the world as my teacher, you taught me three lifetimes ago. Two lifetimes ago, we were neighbours when I confessed my love to you before moving away and never seeing each other since then. One lifetime ago, I was a dying teen in a hospital bed and you promised we'd meet again someday.

In the present, the sky is clear and the sun greets us with a shining hello. You turn to me smiling, so I plant a kiss on your cheek and your face quickly burns red. Laughing, I say, "What? I couldn't help it!" Besides, we just conquered a mountain today! So forgive me if you didn't see it coming, but you look cute in red, you know.

Soon you tug on my parka and point to the sun in the distance, and from there, we could see the entire mountain range laid out in front of us.

In this lifetime, I think we finally got it right.


End file.
